


IT'S A START. 5-btvs-ats-ucsl

by iskierka



Category: Angel The Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 13:18:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iskierka/pseuds/iskierka





	IT'S A START. 5-btvs-ats-ucsl

Title: It's A Start  
Author: Briar  
Rating: PG+  
Distribute: Lists & at http://envy.nu/nummy but also  
most likely yes if you ask nicely  
Notes: a. Thank you CGB! ;) without beta, the tenses &  
stuff are not to be of good. b. Spyke, may this make  
you smile c. thanks to ~you~ for reading this  
Feedback: For the sake of all Numfie! send to  
briargoeth@yahoo.com  
Spoilers: 'That Old Gang of Mine'  
Disclaimer: Joss. Joss. all is Joss. AND David  
Greenwalt. and Tim.  
Summary: it's wacky Host/Gunn fun!  
~~~~~~~

///The way you see me walking on  
That's why I'm telling you in song  
There's only one way to get ahead  
You've got to give it up instead  
Start all over again ///

 

*

Maybe if he tries squinting his eyes and focusing  
harder, the human known as Charles Gunn will  
spontaneously disappear. As it is, the wall of apathy  
and not-so-veiled hostility seems to lack any affect  
on the man's halting attempts. At apology. 

"...so of course then.(pause)........{{{blah blah blah  
blah blah}}}.....(swallow)......and that's why...."

No doubt haltingly because Lorne is on the move and  
wants to be away. Wants the human to go away. This  
particular one. Far.

The stream of words nevertheless continues. 

On. And on. 

And. On. And on.

Charles is smoothly, doggedly, ignoring the hint. 

// Either that, or he's as dumb as a karbluschk ox.  
Hmmph. //

The flow of gibber, and the staticky aura, both stop.

"What was that?"

Lorne eyes him warily. The red eyes squint more  
intensely, and the rest of this heretic, body marked  
and cast out from Clan Deathwok, remains bristling in  
stony silence.

Beat.

"C'mon I *heard* you say something."

Silence.

"You _made_ a noise, " Gunn points out. "I know I  
heard so-"

"I was CLEARING my THROAT, " Lorne returns loudly.  
"And now I want you to leave." The affronted demon  
doesn't bother to point the way out the door. He does  
squint his eyes just a little bit harder. 

And plays down the sudden desire to start belting out  
the lyrics to Gloria Gaynor's renowned opus, the  
Bouncing Back song and tell this schmuck -with really  
tense "friends"- that he's not welcome anymore.  
~

 

You know, I really wish he'd stop staring at me like  
that. He reminds me of a bad comic-book villain.  
Laser-beams of redness, gyuuh. Like he wants to fry me  
with his eyes.

"Like a FRITATA! " the Host grinds out.

"Damn!" Now it is Gunn who is much affronted.

"You've got to stop reading my mind like that! Y'know  
we've talked about this, man." 

The Host continues to walk away.

Lorne stops before a wall splotched with a  
Hawaiian-Punch colored stain on the wall dribbled with  
runny, yellow trails and a drying mix of pink  
gelatinous lumps.

" 'Until we stop harming all living beings, we are  
still savages.' "

Turning his purple-suited back once more, he moves  
farther away from Gunn. Gunn, who speeds up his pace  
to grab at Lorne's shoulder and spin the Host back so  
they face each other.

Gunn holds up both his hands, "Look, Lorne..." -moves  
closer still- and stops.

"Hoo, that ain't sea breeze on your breath--"

"Look, you _human_...same human who greatly helped out  
in turning my bar into looking like the X of a  
tornado's bullseye....they terrorized my purveyors,  
Charles. Invaded and violated my Sanctuary. This is  
the first time in a few that I've taken the time to  
make myself look presentable again." Lorne sweeps an  
arm to take in his silk purple-suit-and-silver-necktie  
ensemble. "I'm picking up the pieces. I'm trying to  
move on."

There is a brief time for reflection as the aura  
Lorne's trying to project, no longer as taut a  
compressed spring as before, makes an impression upon  
the human.

"Remember the time it was All Country Ho-Ha Night?"  
Gunn prods gently.

"Yeah, so what?"

"You dared me to get up on the stage and sing that  
night. And I wouldn't budge, so Cordy said she'd try  
out Dolly Parton's underground cover of "All My Exes  
Live In Texas."

Lorne shudders. "Ghhhesh...I remember."

"We were still so worried about Wesley in the  
hospital, but he'd told us to beat it 'cause he wanted  
to 'have my tea in some solitude' for a while. You  
grabbed my arm and dragged me up there, and I sang 'I  
Can't Stop Loving You.' "

Krevlorne smiles half-dreamily at the echoes of aura,  
and then remembers that insurance plans covering demon  
karaoke bars don't include "Fraternal Pillage by  
Violent Mob Crew."

"You said I sounded like dark velvet."

"I was lying. I thought Ray Charles was turning  
over...somewhere...on the fluffy goose down pillows of  
his bed. With Egyptian cotton sheets and Dubshkorrglst  
incense. All within his seaside bungalow. The  
likes of which I'll never be able to finance because  
I'll have to use my retirement fund to start all over  
again." 

Lorne walks agitatedly, gesticulating to point it out.  
How much havoc this mess has wrought. And what kind. 

"When I first hatched this joint in an empty  
warehouse, still blinking like a newborn deer in the  
neon lights of the strip bar a couple of blocks away,  
I was amazed. Stricken with joy and good fortune. The  
potential of this place, a place of _music_."

He looks around, to picture in his mind and with the  
watercolor of those emotions, how it was then. How it  
all began.

"With a good stock of liquor and a classy atmosphere.  
This was more than just a demonic watering hole. It  
was a Haven. Caritas. And now, " Lorne gestures at the  
broken chairs. Shakes his head. Cringes at a smell of  
the place not quite right where a slight citrusy scent  
used to be. The shards of glass and trash. 

Gunn follows the green arm, and surveys the wrecked  
vista.

Paper, bottles, chips of sharp wood and  
plastic...bullet holes and cracked plaster...

The not-so-subtle whiff of something pungent that  
might be chunks of flesh once living, gone singed and  
dead.

The Host stops his movements and absorbs it all.

"The Karma now positively reeks!"

Lorne sees Charles tuck his chin along with the  
downward casting eyes. Gunn looks up.

"I just really want to try to make it up to you."

"I know. You will. But not today. Now get out."

To which, exasperated, Gunn responds, "Twice I went  
to Ventura to deliver that-- demon. chakra. *stuff*--"

"Charles---"

"What does a brother have to do around here--"

"MR. Gunn, I suggest--"

"I have spent all of this morning and ALL afternoon  
cleaning up--"

"--this mess you helped to make, however un---"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT, A BLOWJOB??!!"

Pause.  
~

It is now dusk. Gunn is sore. Even the waterbed feels  
hard against his back. He can hear Lorne whistling in  
the shower through the open door.

Damn.

 

[end]


End file.
